Tagged
by cmr2014
Summary: Oh, look. Somebody spray-painted the water tower. So why's Meryl so upset about it?


DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

**Tagged**

A thin layer of dew hung over everything. The air had lost the night chill but wasn't yet warm, either; it was barely after the first crack of dawn, the temperature hadn't yet risen. There was the smell of baking bread and cooking meat as the local restaurant prepared for the morning crowd. The town was just waking; soon, it would be full of hustle and bustle, but for now there was blissful quiet.

A bloodcurdling screech broke that quiet.

Meryl Stryfe stood aghast, still clad in pajamas, gaping at what might be the most offensive thing she had ever seen. Her quick step outside for a breath of fresh air was forgotten.

Her partner Milly Thompson, for some reason fully dressed, was the first to reach her. "Meryl, what's wrong?"

Vash the Stampede came out next, temporarily oblivious to the fact he was shirtless and might scare half the town. He had been in the middle of his morning workout when he heard Meryl's scream and didn't even think about it, just grabbed his gun and ran.

"What's going on, Meryl? Where's the bad guys?" He looked around her protectively, scanning for threats. Why the thought of Meryl in danger bothered him so, he couldn't say. But it did.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood was last out, pulling on his shirt, taking in the scene casually, a pistol in his waistband. Saw Meryl, still wearing an expression of shock. Saw Milly, wondered what she was doing up and dressed at such an early hour.

"Spikey! Put this on before you give the townspeople a coronary." Threw Vash a sweatshirt.

Vash caught it, still watching over Meryl. "Thanks!" Took one last scan before pulling it on.

Wolfwood strode over to see what Meryl was gawking at. Followed her stare. Couldn't help but burst out cackling.

"It's not funny!" Meryl lashed out. "It's an abomination is what it is! Criminal defacement of property, and a damned lie to boot!"

On the town water tower, in bright red spray paint, were three words, five meters tall and plain as day for the entire town to read:

**MERYL LOVES VASH**

"Whoever did this should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law," she fumed. "And given hard labor!" Glared at Vash, who had his sweatshirt on now and was looking at the tower.

"What are you looking at me for?" he demanded. "I didn't do it! Although I think it's nice that you feel that way."

"_I DON"T FEEL THAT WAY!"_ Meryl thundered at him, stalking over and poking him in the chest for emphasis. "I only follow you because it's my job to limit the damage that _you_ cause, you insufferable broomhead! If you would stop being such a giant pain in the –"

She was cut off as he kissed her. Too shocked to do anything but relax into it as he molded his mouth to hers. Too surprised to hide that she enjoyed it.

"Let's talk about it over breakfast," Vash suggested with a smile. "We can get dressed and get something to eat, and you can tell me all about how you don't love me."

Meryl nodded numbly, fireworks still going off in her head from his kiss. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. He had short-circuited her.

He guided her into the hotel, calling to Milly and Wolfwood, "You guys go ahead! We'll get dressed and join you in a bit!"

"What do you say?" Wolfwood asked Milly. "Want some breakfast?"

"I sure do!" she exclaimed. "I've been busy all night and I'm hungry!"

Before Wolfwood could ask what she meant, Milly was already sauntering off. He saw her discreetly toss some things into a waste basket.

"Are you coming, Mr. Priest?" Her smile was genuine and infectious. She was positively gleeful over something.

"Just breathing hard," he called. "Wait up!"

As he hurried to catch up with her, he glanced at what she had thrown away. Cracked a grin when he saw three cans of red spray paint.

On impulse, he checked for the fullest can and tucked it into his jacket. Maybe he would do a little tagging of his own tonight.

This amount of paint wouldn't go far, but he was pretty sure he could coax it into a short but sweet **NW x MT**.


End file.
